“No; you know he is very odd and discreet. But he ought to be with us. Don Crisostomo saved his life.”
“I accepted the offer for the same reason,” said the first voice. “Don Crisostomo is having my wife treated at a doctor’s house in Manila. I have agreed to take charge of the convent in the attack, so that I can settle my accounts with the curate.”
“And we, we will have charge of the attack on the cuartel, so that we can say to the members of the Guardia Civil that our father had sons.”
“How many will there be of you?”
“Five! Five will be enough. Don Crisostomo’s servant says that there will be twenty in all.”
“And if things don’t turn out well?”
“St!” said one, and they all became silent.
In the semi-darkness, a form could be seen crawling along the fence. From time to time it stopped, as if to look behind.
And it did so not without reason. Behind, at some twenty paces, came another form. This one was taller and seemed to be darker than the first. Each time that the first stopped this second one would disappear as if the earth had swallowed it.
“They are following me,” murmured the one ahead. “Is it a Guardia Civil? Has the sacristan lied?”